Nausea: The Adventure begins
by Thru Terry's Eyes
Summary: E/O drabble challenge for Enkidu's birthday! I know I'm WAY late and hope to make up for it with quantity although I don't guarantee quality. Word was nausea. Herein lie 10 drabbles. Hope you enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

**E/O drabble challenge for Enkidu's birthday. I'm late cause I had to work but in hope of being forgiven, I humbly offer 10 drabbles that I hope will be meet with satisfaction and incorporate as many of the requested elements as possible. Happy birthday Enkidu, I lay these at your altar.**

**#1 Ribs**

**You want those ribs wet or dry?**

* * *

Dean felt the ribs snap when he slammed into the edge of the tombstone. Solid cracks he could almost hear that sent shockwaves of hurt and nausea through his body. His gasp of pained surprise sucked rain into his windpipe and he doubled over in agony, choking and spluttering, legs sliding in the water and mud until he was laying against the very grave marker that had injured him.

He couldn't breathe. His chest felt like it was crushed.

Heart thudding, hands pressed to his ribcage.

A gun went off nearby.

_Sam._

He struggled to draw in air.

And failed.


	2. Embroidery

**#2 Stitches**

**Embroidery**

Dean stared at the line of sutures marching down the length of his forefinger as Sam finished stitching, squinting in the bad light, pausing most notably on the area where some of what looked like stuff that should have been inside the gash was sort of hanging out in places. Nothing major, but still...

"What about that stuff?" he asked, pointing with his other hand.

Sam frowned at the offending bits sticking out thru the stitches. "What, that?" With tweezers, Sam crammed the escaping tissue back into the split in Dean's skin in a movement so nauseating Dean gagged.

"_DUDE!"_


	3. Now I lay me down to die

**#3 Sick**

**Now I lay me down to die.**

The car was never going to stop and he was going to die here in the _PASSENGER_ side of his own car while Sam tried to find a motel for the night.

Muscles aching, brain woozy and short-circuiting as his fever crept higher, stomach knotting with cramps, so nauseous he knew one more touch on the brakes or sway of the big car in a too tight turn and he was going to be decorating the dashboard.

"Not feelin' so good here, Sam," he warned thickly.

And Sam hit the brakes.


	4. Quiet as a mouse

**#4 Hurt Dean**

**Quiet As A Mouse...**

Sam pushed himself further into the shadows, pulling Dean's limp body against him, the side of his face pressed to Dean's head, blood already forming glue between them.

The creature outside tried to scent them, snuffling and scratching beyond the darkness of the rocks shielding them. Sam prayed the special dust they had covered themselves with would keep them hidden.

He tried to control his own shaking breath.

_Go away, go away_...

Dean moved as consciousness returned. His boot jerked minutely, dislodging a pebble.

Sam's hand moved quickly to Dean's mouth.

"Lay still." Sam breathed into Dean's ear. _"Lay still." _


	5. Everything in it's place

**#5 Dislocations**

**Everything in its place...**

Nausea rolled through Dean as Sam gently tried to manipulate his shoulder back into the socket. The usual snap-jerk move hadn't worked. Three tries had sent Dean, gagging, to his knees.

"I'm sorry," Sam repeated in a litany of apologies.

On his knees and one elbow, bad arm hugged to his belly, head down, Dean gasped, "Just gimme a second..." Sweat dripped off his chin, joining the other dark spots on the dirty carpet.

Slowly he straightened, still kneeling, bracing himself as Sam hesitantly gripped his elbow again, "Ready?"

Dean nodded.

"You sure?"

_No..._

"For Chrissake, Sam, just _Do it!"_


	6. Hammering the point home

**#6 Shoulder injury**

**Hammering the Point Home.**

"Just get it out, Sam," Dean grit his teeth. The sight of the three and a half inch galvanized nail buried to the head in his shoulder was nauseating to say the least.

Sam hesitated, pliers in hand. "It missed the bone, but this is gonna hurt like a bitch..." He clamped the nail tightly in the pliers and jerked before Dean could think about it.

Dean let out a hoarse growl of pain as the metal was dragged free of the muscle, blood poured down his arm.

"No more jobs on construction sites," he groaned.

"_EVER."_


	7. Burned out

**#7 Fever**

**Burned out**

The 110 degree heat rippled the air as Sam and Dean moved toward the car. Added to the fever Dean had been running for the last three days, it gave him the nauseating sensation of floating slightly above the ground as he walked.

His attention wavered unsteadily as Sam talked.

And talked.

Voice a constant droning, buzz of noise.

Dean's steps slowed and he stopped, wondering, in a detached way, if he was going to be sick.

Raising a hand to his sweating face, eyes unfocusing as the world spiraled slowly around him, Sam's words faded into silence.

_Thank God. _


	8. What Lies beneath

**#10 Hip**

**What Lies Beneath.**

Wearily, Dean unbuckled his belt and flipped open the top button, very aware of the raw burn on his right side. He carefully pulled up his t-shirt, tugging it gently loose from the blood sticking it to his skin, and moved to see his reflection in the bathroom mirror better.

He hadn't realized how deeply he had scraped and bruised the skin in a wide band from just above his hip to below his beltline when he fell on the rocks.

Gingerly, he unzipped his jeans and pushed the fabric lower, hissing at the painful drag.

"Son of a _bitch_..."


	9. Which is worse?

**#9 Torso**

**Which is worse...**

Dean cried out as dozens of venom soaked barbs peppered his chest. Everywhere they touched was like being injected with acid.

The poison acted fast, pain, dizziness and nausea sending him instantly to his knees, retching.

"Lay still!" Sam barked, shoving Dean onto his back and tearing open his shirt.

Dean felt liquid splashing over his torso as he was doused with holy water, the barbs bursting with a sizzling pop. He arched up in shock, screaming. It was like being set on fire.

Sam knelt and pulled Dean close to him, rocking.

"It'll be okay, I got you. "


	10. Puzzle Pieces

**#10 Abdomen**

**Puzzles Pieces**

Sam's hands shook as he threaded the circular needle, swallowing down his nausea at the sight of the crisscrossed slashes on Dean's abdomen. Dean was mercifully unconscious, spread on the ground like a sacrifice, bloody towels beneath him to keep him off the dirt.

Sam paused, surveying the wreckage of his brother.

_I can't do this...he needs a doctor.._

_But it was too far.._

"Sam..."

He was startled to find Dean's eyes half open, watching him, pain, but no fear there in the cloudy green orbs.

Only trust.

"It's okay, Sam..."

Sam nodded, grit his teeth.

And began to sew.


End file.
